


surviving was never the plan

by Tainteddagger



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tainteddagger/pseuds/Tainteddagger
Summary: it was bad, then it got messy and now it's both





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> idk where this is going so enjoy the ride I guess.

**Chapter 1: Letting Go**

"I think I'm ready to let her go." And even though my voice trembled, there is still conviction in my tone. I am ready to move forward and be happy. It's what she _wanted_ and what I _need_.

It's quiet for a beat, I can tell that she's giving me the chance to add more to my statement. To give a reason for this new development. Just last week I burst into tears, because I couldn't verbalize why I haven't been able to visit her grave since the funeral. Now here I am ready to let her go. After noticing I don't quite know where to begin she starts the conversation.

"Did something happen with Hope?" I shake my head. Seeking therapy definitely had everything to do with her, in a way letting her go has a lot to do with Hope too indirectly, but she's not the catalyst for this.

"I dreamt about her last night, I forgave her in my dream."

"You saw her in a dream?" She repeated like she was trying to figure out how she should approach this scenario.

"Yes, I was in this meadow we used to spend nights looking at the sky. And she appeared, she looked exactly like the version of her I saw in the bar six months ago. We talked, well mostly she talked and she begged me to forgive myself, to forgive Hope and to let go of the grudges and resentment I'm letting fester. She told me it was ok to move forward and be happy. That it's all she ever wanted for me. She seemed tired, lonely." The dream felt so real, and the message whether conjured up by my subconscious or otherwise was clear. It was time.

"She felt lonely." I continue on. "Like she was missing something. She didn't feel at peace and I realized neither was I. I owed it to her and myself to find peace again. So I hugged her and told her I forgave her, her smile didn't reach her eyes like it used to, but her body relaxed like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. The last thing she said was: 'if you forgive me then live and let yourself be happy.' And she was gone."

It feels good telling someone else about it. I could talk to Hope about it, but I know bringing it up might hurt her or make her uncomfortable no matter how understanding she acts. Plus I don't know how well admitting a part of me still hasn't forgiven her would go down. I know she still hasn't forgiven her herself completely for the role she played in this mess. No need to fuck with her sanity more than she does on her own anyway.

"It is a step in the right direction, and are you sure you're ready to take that step? Are you doing it for you, Hope or?" She doesn't finish her question.

I know she's testing my resolve knowing that the name alone would normally be a gut punch emotionally. "I'm doing this for all of us."

That has to be enough. I can't let her go solely for myself, no matter how much it's for my own mental and emotional stability. But maybe for Hope and _her_ , for them I can crawl out of this abyss of mourning and wallowing.

"We all deserve peace. I'm prepared to say goodbye now." I have to be.

"I think you are too." She gives me a small encouraging smile and my chest feels a little less constricting. A vote of confidence goes a long way.

"Thanks, that means a lot. I'm going back home with Hope for Remembrance Day. Hopefully seeing her grave and acknowledging it in real time for the first time since her funeral will be a step in the right direction."

"Have you thought about how you'd approach the situation?" She inquires.

"No. And honestly I think it's best I don't. Going back home and seeing everyone being in that place again. It's overwhelming just mentioning it now. But I have to face this, accept it and move forward."

She gives me a proud look. She might believe in me more than me right now. Granted I don't believe in myself all that much. (but fake it till you make it right?) Hell she might just be proud I'm finally listening to everything she's been saying for the last 9 sessions. Or that I've grown a lot from the broken girl, that was selfsabotaging her entire life just because she saw her dead girlfriend in a dive bar.

Dead _ex_ -girlfriend for fucks sake. Another thing to work on in this new process. I should make a list, later at the Hope's place. Referring to the apartment as _ours_ should be added to the aforementioned list as well. There is definitely no way I'm going to keep the little sanity I have left after this, but I'm doing it for all of us.

"I'm proud of you for taking this step. If you're feeling particularly overwhelmed remember the exercises we've went thru. And please remember it's ok to lean on a support system. You aren't alone or the only one still grieving."

"Yes I'll definitely keep that in mind."

* * *

 

My surrounding area is currently filled with crumpled papers. Crumpled papers with maybe two and a half sentences on them and a select few where I didn't get past 'dear'. I have so much I want to say, what need to say, but nothing is coming out right.

Everything feels off. The armchair, my favorite thing in the apartment, feels far to uncomfortable I feel like a restless cat trying to find the right place to sink into. My a's are to disproportionate to my e's, which throws off the whole aesthetic of the sentence and makes it look sloppy. Even the grip on my pen feels off. It's like I'm holding it in my left opposed to my right.

My sigh bounces of the walls of Hope's apartment -our apartment- taunting me with my own unproductivity. Why is it so hard to formulate my thoughts and emotions on paper? It probably has something to do with me not actually ever confronting said things in regards to this situation.

Everything around me feels like tempered chaos. Or maybe I'm the tempered chaos, there is so much I've held down and kept buried. There is so much inside of me that starting this process feels like I'm unleashing Pandora's box to wreak havoc on myself.

Ok let's try this again, maybe I should try writing my thoughts as they come.

_I don't know why this is so difficult. I mean it's not like you're going to read or refuse to read it for that matter. No one is going to read this so why is it so difficult? It's probably redundant writing to a dead person, which is besides the point because I'm writing this for me...to you - for me? I have officially lost the fucking plot._

"Ugh!" I groan in frustration throwing the stupid notebook across the livingroom in towards the door just as it was opening.

Hope's supernatural instincts really robbed me from the hard thud I wanted to hear, even tho that likely meant it hitting her in the face.

"You training for softball practice there slugger or target practice on your gorgeous girlfriend?" She asked laughing. She really is gorgeous.

"I don't have the ass to pull off the uniform. You on the other hand definitely could." I over dramatically check her out in her Nike tights and she definitely would pull them off. And I'd definitely be pulling then off of- I'm suddenly assaulted with a couch pillow.

"Are you imagining me in a softball uniform?" She asks shocked.

"I mean technically I am, I'm just taking them off?"

Her smile is beaming and so beautiful. It kind of struck me that she's not always this carefree and unguarded with me. And it's probably my fault. Another thing that needs to be added to the list of shit I need to work on, because she's breathtaking.

Suddenly I feel her weight settling in my lap and her fingers on my face. My eyes refocus on her worried gaze. "Where did you go in that head of yours, mhm?" I can hear the concern and a tinge of fear in coloring her tone. _-Help dampen Hope's emotional anxiety-_ added to number two on the list.

"I was thinking about how breathtaking your smile is and from how I've missed it." I try reassuring her and giving her a kiss on her chin. She leans away and looks at me skeptically.

"Are you trying to sweet talk your way out of the fact you almost assaulted me with a notebook?" Her giggle let's me know I reassured her sufficiently.

"Do I look like the type to perpetuate spousal abuse Ms. Mickaelson?"

I can instantly tell when the use of 'spousal' registers in her brain with how her muscle tenses and the widening of her eyes.

"Spousal, huh? Thought we were gal pals arguing about cat custody arrangements."

The use of spouse probably really wasn't the best choice, since I haven't showed any consistent sense of commitment lately. And the slip however small might be highly misleading and implying that I've made far more progress than I've actually done. Which in turn makes me feel far more guilty and adds more pressure on me to actually progress. But God that little smile she got, makes it worth it.

"You're stuck with me regardless." Her beaming smile really makes my emotional guilt worse yet is somehow the biggest positive reinforcement.

"I'm holding you to that babe." She kisses me softly. "I also know why you're being so cute. You're going to miss me when I go to Mystic Falls for the week."

Great now my turn to tense. She notices and is quick to try to pacify what would usually be an emotional shutdown. But actually isn't because growth.

"Actually I wanted to talk to you about that. I've been thinking I want to go with you back to Mystic Falls and maybe a 2 week vacation because we deserve it?"

The apartment is dead silent for a minute. She's doing that weird invasive jedi mind trick thing. Trying to figure out my thoughts and reasoning, or trying to detect any hint of supernatural. God our adolescence really left us with more PTSD than therapy can help us with.

"Uh, what brought this on?"

"I've been thinking about it since you brought it up and talked it out during my session today." I lace our fingers together holding our adjoined hands near my heart. "I honestly think it'll be good for me and us. I want to go with you."

I hold her gaze trying to convey that I'm doing this as much for me as for her, for us. I know she felt it when I saw the emotions welling up in hers.

"I love you."

"I love you too." For the first time I don't feel my heart clench with guilt. I take this as a sign of faith that this process will prove to be worth it.

* * *

 

Hope and I spent the rest of our weekend lazily packing for our trip, laying in bed and cuddling or just being in close proximity of the other. There definitely has been an energy shift between us. Like there's an open flow going between us. It hard to think that I sat in the way of said flow.

Slightly skeptical on all this top notch progress if I'm being honest. This is definitely the calm before the storm. My subconscious granting me two days of bliss to balance out the emotional hell I'm probably going to put both of us thru.

I've gotten more anxious since we went to bed last night. It's gotten worse since we left the apartment and is probably at it's highest possible peak for now.

However I've been keeping it under control pretty well. Mostly because I had to be the supportive girlfriend due to Hope's flight anxiety. It worsened significantly as the morning went on. Which was actually kind of cute in a way, seeing as we literally survived the apocalypse at 17, yet somehow flying is the thing that strips the tribrid of her devil may care attitude.

She wanted to drive there originally, like she normally does but I convinced her otherwise. Lord knows I'm not cut out for road trips.

Said tribrid is currently knocked out by a sleeping spell that would knock an ogre out and clutching at my left hand like the cutie she is. Her head leaning on my shoulder and her body angled towards me. She looks so at peace. I give her a kiss on her head and she nuzzles closer.

I'm actually jealous of her peaceful slumber, because I'm still stuck with my thoughts and an empty page. But Hope did give me great advice on how to start.

"The first time I wrote to my dad it was because of the necromancer lead in with what made you want to write to her and everything else will follow." She then held me and twirled my hair, giving me the exact comfort I needed the entire afternoon. I love her.

But now it's time to begin. Just start with why.


	2. Remembrance Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning// implied/referenced suicide if you squint.  
> We find out whose dead and whose POV it's being told right now. Enjoy the mess I guess. 
> 
> Ps italicized is the letter

Just start with why.

_I relapsed six months ago. I had a good year, I moved on and I got my life on a track. And it took a split second to get me off the rails again._

Six months ago Hope and I were at a dive bar in New Orleans, for a split second I saw her in that bar. It was different this time though.

In the first year of my grieving I saw her in familiar places all the time: curled up in her favorite loveseat in the library, some nights when I was drunk and stumbling back to school she was there near the stairs looking out for me or I'd catch glimpses of her smile in the hallway and it would throw my whole day off.

Seeing her in places she couldn't possibly be wasn't uncommon to me, but everytime she was exactly like my memories, frozen at 17. Yet the version of her that I saw in that bar was older, with a darker aura.

Those were definitely her brown eyes I made eye contact with and I felt that in my soul. My heart sped up in the way only she could make it. The hallucination was so vivid and felt so real it knocked the wind right out of me, I almost fell off of my barstool in shock.

In a way I wish it lasted longer then that short glimpse, I wish I could have gotten the chance to memorize what she could've looked like healthy at 21. Even though she didn't radiate the same brightness as she used to, her presence still felt like something I'd gravitate to. No matter if it was an illusion created by my subconscious.

After regrouping and catching my breath I stole a glance back to where I saw her and as expected the woman sitting at the table definitely wasn't her. My mind was fully aware that it wasn't real, but I still felt a soul crushing disappointment when the eyes I made contact were no longer molten chocolate but stormy greys.

_I might be stuck seeing glimpses of a ghost for the rest of my life and I'm ok with that. My heart and mind refuse to forget you. That split second glimpse wasn't even the problem._

_The problem is how much I want it to be true. It's been 5 years. 5 years and I'm still here wanting the impossible, craving something I'll never taste again. I'm still willing to trade everything to have you. Like nothing or anyone will ever quite be enough._

_And that's definitely not ok. It's not fair to_ _Hope, it's definitely not healthy for me to still be holding on to you in this way._

After that night at the bar it was like everything: the progress that I made, my relationship and mental health just took a nose dive. Everything felt empty and lackluster.

It was like seeing her hit reset on everything I worked thru and I was back at stage one.

Grappling with denial over a death I thought I finally accepted a year prior. I was at that clearing, I saw the destruction there. I had her goodbye letter. I witnessed her casket being lowered into the ground, albeit it being an empty one, I threw fresh soil on it and lay a sun flower on her headstone.

A drunk hallucination shouldn't have had me questioning sober memories, just because apart of me desperately wanted it to be true.

Said hallucination shouldn't have triggered bouts of irritability and made unresolved wounds that were rooted in anger resurface. I was angry because I missed her, that she wasn't here with me like she promised.

I was angry at everyone that played a roll in her absence. Which meant I was angry at Hope, eventhough I swore I forgave her. Snapping at her, having resentful thoughts. Treating her terribly and then trying to smooth it over and then repeating the vicious cycle. How she survived the toxicity of this mess is beyond me.

In some way probably much like me, she feels like she deserves it. Self blame and hate is probably our biggest shared flaw, we have it in spades. And hers definitely fed off of my anger.

Above all else though I was angry at myself. I was angry at myself for wanting her, for wishing we had gotten a shot at our planned future. I was angry at myself for hurting Hope. I was angry at her, I was angry at everyone, at the world. And I desperately didn't want to be.

So I turned all that rage inwards. Knowing I couldn't possibly burden Hope with this. At some point I think I imploded. It wasn't a noticeable destructive force, or emotional outburst that registered in my brain. One minute everything inside was burning and the next nothing.

So here I was at stage 3 of grief yet a fucking again and experiencing the second worse depression period of my young life. Yet I wasn't alone this time, somehow that made it even worse. Seeing Hope desperately trying to reach thru the fog and having no way of just letting her know she's seen, because I can't seem to care about a damn thing. Just consumed by this numbness.

_I can see how it affects her, it hurts me to know I'm not only keeping myself from obtaining peace but to know I'm keeping her from achieving her own feels soul crushing. We both deserve better than that._

_We bonded over the huge you shaped hole in our life and somehow ended up together trying to out chase the shadow your death casted on our life._

_However this spiral back into the abyss that is missing and grieving you is pulling her back into her own abyss._

_And god do I hate her abyss. Her abyss hates you, I don't want to become another reason she hates you. I refuse to be. I couldn't be alone again. I didn't want to lose her too._

_So I went to therapy for the first time. Someone had to help steer me away from my selfsabotaging tendencies and save my relationship from imploding._

I was skeptical of the idea of therapy at first. I didn't do it the first time, I just worked thru my issues on my own. Not well obviously, I spent more time trying to bury memories and even more time trying to drown my sorrows. Key word being tried. I failed miserably as my first couple of sessions pointed out.

Despite my skepticism therapy worked, is working. It's been a day to day thing but it's helped me. I'd go as far as to say saved me from myself, from my grief. Saved my relationship from the brink of implosion. Healed wounds that I didn't think could've been and taught how to care for the wounds that might never seal.

Therapy really pushed me to progress for myself. And I did for the most part, however there was definitely a part I struggled with. Letting go.

_Therapy definitely did the trick. If you were still here I think you'd be proud of the strides I made for bettering myself. Not just concerning you but also my need for control, even my manipulative streak._

_I was still grappling with letting you go. I'd been stagnant there for awhile now (near 5 years actually) and I just couldn't seem to make myself make that choice. It was never easy to do, not at 15, not at 17 certainly not now at 22. I was still chasing wisps of your ghost to grasp onto. After so long I resigned myself to the fact that maybe I'd never be able to. That you'd definitely always be a shadow in my life, and that thought was as depressing as it was comforting._

_That was the faith I accepted, but like everything about us when I finally accept something you somehow find a way to turn my world upside down._

_About a week ago you appeared to me in a dream. The same version of you that I saw in that bar. A little darker, a lot more tired almost defeated in a way. Yet your eyes were more tender and more expressive not to the degree they used to be, but it still made my heart soar. I know it was a dream but it felt like you were right there with me._

_I lunged at you and I grasped on to your jacket like a lifeline I woke up with crescent marks in my palms. For a long moment you just held me, letting me fall apart in your arms just like you always did. I haven't felt whole or at peace since that night. Hope tried to make the pieces fit again, I was just under the impression I lost a big chunk of my pieces. I guess those pieces were you._

_It's the oddest sensation feeling like the only thing that can fix you was the exact thing that shattered you to begin with. And God did you break me. And in an instant dream me's instant elation to your presence shifted to anger. Dream you felt the shift instantly, just like you always did._

_You held on regardless. Letting your chin rest on my head, you comforted me. It was like you were trying to absorb my emotional pain, trying to relieve me from yet another burden. A burden you tied to my heart unintentionally, that's been weighing me down ever since_.

She held on to me for what felt like hours. It felt like our bodies were being reacquainted, but also sinking home.

There was an intense yearning hanging in the air but it didn't quite mold together, two separate entities trying to entwine, but held back by some invisible barrier. In my dream state it triggered the logical part of me into remembering that this wasn't real. That she was dead. That this was yet another illusion of my own doing to self sabotage my life a little more. Which made my rage bubble up once more.

I roughly shrugged off her embrace. I saw the hurt flash in her eyes, but the anger taking over of me overpowered the instinct to soothe her pain. Putting as much distance between us as possible. She tried to grab my arm to stop me, I pushed it off and I proceeded to lash out.

"No! Leave me alone. Please just leave me alone Josie, I can't do this anymore. I finally moved on. I was content, I could've even been happy someday." A bitter chuckle escaped me, it felt so foreign but my chest felt a little less constricted with every word.

"I am so tired of you and your ghost haunting me. You chose to leave me, when I wanted to help and love you. And now I'm the one stuck with the burden of yearning for something that'll never come back to me. So please just leave me alone Josie. Please."

I was pleading for my sanity. I just wanted to be free of her shadow. I didn't deserve the emotional torture, I did nothing wrong.

"Penelope I'm sorry." She whispered taking a step forward. Making me take a step back.

"No you don't get to do that. I hate you." I didn't. I don't. Maybe a little. "You chose your death when I was willing to wade thru the darkness with you. I was the only one that didn't turn my back on you! And you left me! Left me to deal with all the fall out. You were selfish and you chose the easy way out."

It felt good. Releasing my anger at her, granted it was me vs my subconscious, it was still better than cursing out a pillow during therapy. Seeing my words hit there intended target in real time was satisfying. With every word I spat at her, I saw her recoil like I was landing actual blows. Her shoulders sagging reminding me of how she usually carried herself as a teen, she looked defeated and unsure again.

"Penelope, I had no choice I-"

"Fuck you and your choices! You didn't think about anyone but yourself. It was bad but it would've gotten better. But you up and left. And what's worse you left me like I meant nothing, but here I am still holding on to you five years later. I really am pathetic."

In an instant her expression darkened. The temperature dropped to the point it felt icy. It reminded of the night that was kind of the catalyst for all of this. I shivered in fear knowing what was coming next.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I never wanted to."

The 'not again' went unsaid and hung between us as the atmosphere slowly returned to normal. Sadness coloring her eyes, she even took a step back. My fear being a bigger blow than anything I yelled at her. It always did.

"I'm leaving soon and I've been looking over you in a way. And-"

"You've been spiritually stalking me?"

"Something like that. Anyway. I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy Penny. And myself along with you are standing in your way of achieving that." She paused taking an unsure step forward.

"I'm not here to plead for your forgiveness, because I know I don't deserve it. I am here however to plead that you forgive yourself. What I did had nothing to do with you. It's not your fault so please let go of your guilt. And as powerless as this might make you feel, there was nothing you could've done."

That sentence really triggered the waterworks. Hearing her saying there was nothing I could've done to save her, I've heard it from Hope, her dad, my therapist even Lizzie but none of them actually broke thru my guilt. Hearing it from the source kind of broke me all over again, because I always knew it to be true but hearing that my love wasn't enough or couldn't make a difference was like another bucket of cold ice on my heart.

"You also need to forgive Hope for whatever it is a part of you is still holding her accountable for. Her pain was and is valid. So don't hold how she feels about me against her. She loves you Pen in ways I wish I always did. A-and you love her too. So please let your walls down and let her love in. You both deserve to be happy together."

At this point I was sobbing uncontrollably. And I fell apart in her arms all over again.

"Don't let my memory stand in your way of being happy and finding your peace Pen."

"I don't want to let you go JoJo. It'll be like losing you again and i-i can't."

"It won't be you'll always have my love. But you need to let me go so you can be at peace move forward."

"What about your peace?"

"I'm getting there I think. That's not your journey to worry about." She whispered into my hair. Her loneliness bled into her admission.

"I forgive you." I mumble into her collarbone.

"If you forgive me then live and let yourself be happy."

_Whether that dream was you finding a way to communicate to me from the afterlife or a highly vivid dream conjured up by my brain, the conversation still resonated with me. You were pleading for me to go on and be happy and to forgive myself._

_I've been working on it to some extent. I know that it wasn't my fault, that I did everything I possibly could. But it's another thing to accept that I wasn't enough to save you. That I didn't factor enough to make you believe there was more to fight for. My powerlessness and uselessness is something I'm not sure how to accept, without internalizing the self doubt and letting it affect my every day life._

_Like what if I'm not enough for Hope? I mean I know she loves me and I love her. But we're two incomplete souls trying to make a whole out of what's left of us. I can't mend her wounds, I just have to be another person she doesn't lose. I don't want to be another name added to the list of people she's lost in her life._

_My spiral almost jeopardized that. And you were right I need to get out of my own way. I need to forgive her for lashing out during her grief. Let go of the blame for something she could have never known she'd help cause. With you as my proverbial witness, I swear I'll treat her how she deserves to be._

_Letting you go is definitely the first step into achieving this. A part of me doesn't want to, but its time for me to forward. I'll always carry my memories of you with me. But I will be effectively leaving that ever present shadow behind. Maybe if I stop acknowledging the void you left, life won't feel as empty._

_You made your choice and in some ways I can pinpoint why you did it, but I'll never be ok with it. No matter your reasons. There's a part of me that hates you for leaving, it's also the part that misses you the most if I'm being honest. But mostly I hope it brought you the peace that you were searching for. Whatever wounds you left with I hope you found healing for them in the after life. Lord knows you deserve it._

_I hope your soul finds peace, happiness, and everything you should've had while you were breathing. You were the greatest thing in my life for the years that I had you. You taught me how to love unconditionally and the true meaning of being selfless. Being loved by you might be the highest honor I'll most likely experience in my life._

_Thank you for sharing you're heart with me Josette Saltzman even when I wasn't quite worthy of it. I pray that I made you feel half as loved as you made me feel. I hope to honor your memory in a way you'll be proud of me._

_Find your peace,_

_I'll always love you JoJo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait I have been thinking about either leaving this a two shot or expand on my original idea of this story so I guess lmk if you'd like to know more


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